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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115054">Ties that Bind, Ties that Break</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incandescentflower/pseuds/Incandescentflower'>Incandescentflower</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>30歳まで童貞だと魔法使いになれるらしい | Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Also present day at Tokoyama eventually, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Blow Jobs, Character Study, College Study Abroad in the U.S., Drunk!Kurosawa, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, Family Issues, Hand Jobs, Kurosawa POV, M/M, Pining, Sad Kurosawa, Shower sexiness, Slow Burn, Some high school, a bit of jealous Kurosawa, family illness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:28:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115054</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incandescentflower/pseuds/Incandescentflower</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurosawa was sixteen years old when he first noticed the very faint string tied around his pinky finger.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adachi Kiyoshi/Kurosawa Yuichi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>215</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The rating on this will change, but it will be much later. This one is gonna take its time, but there will be some romantic sexy times later as a warning if that isn't something you enjoy.</p><p>Thanks for the beta from <a href="/users/Tenillypo/">Tenillypo</a> and <a href="/users/wildflowersoul/">Wildflowersoul</a>.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurosawa was sixteen years old when he first noticed the very faint string tied around his pinky finger. It was almost imperceptible at first, possibly mistaken for a trick of the light or a flare from looking too long at direct sun. But as the days went on it became darker and started to be noticed by others.</p><p>
  <em>Did you see Kurosawa has a soul tie? Who do you think his soulmate is? Do you think it’s someone here at school? He is so handsome, athletic and smart. His string will show him his soulmate in record time, that’s for sure.</em>
</p><p>Girls had always shown a particular interest in him. They would leave him letters or ask him to walk them home. Once they saw the tie, he was bombarded. Proximity was not supposed to be something that influenced the string, but it appeared they did not want to chance missing out on some advantage. </p><p>It was exhausting. He already had to be sure to be the perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect athlete. Now he possibly had to be the perfect soulmate. He didn’t even know what that meant.</p><p>“What’s that?” His sister asked, one day when Kurosawa was at the table, trying to do some homework. </p><p>“Nothing,” He said, tugging down his sleeve trying to hide it. He imagined his family would be excited about it. Having a soul tie was something that everyone talked about as a big life event, a milestone, a gift. </p><p>But for some reason, it only made Kurosawa uneasy. Maybe because he never had really liked anyone. All these girls seemed to think he was so great. And they were nice, no doubt, but he would just as happily be home alone reading or playing sports with his friends as spending time with them.</p><p>Goto Ichika and Okada Hiro both got their soul ties earlier this year and it was only a month before the string between them appeared. Everyone oohed and ahhhed over it. How lucky they were. How they couldn’t wait for it to happen to them. But then, they got kind of weird with each other. Okada seemed kind of jealous of Goto’s friends. Everyone talked about their relationship. It seemed like they were under a microscope. </p><p>Kurosawa had enough of his life in the spotlight already.</p><p>He and Okada were good friends and it felt like they no longer could see each other, which made Kurosawa feel a bit sad too. Okada was serious like Kurosawa and always listened when he was frustrated about school or sports. He never seemed like someone who would be jealous. It just made Kurosawa think the ties might not always bring out the best in people.</p><p>“You need to tell our mother,” Yuzuki said, joining him at the table and setting down her drink. “She is going to want to know.”</p><p>Kurosawa knew that was true. But he was hoping to wait until their father went on another longer business trip. His mother would be kind about it. His father would make a tight clucking noise with his tongue and dismiss it all as “foolish nonsense.” That was easy enough for him to do. Their parents never had soul ties.</p><p>But his mother’s parents did. And his grandmother would often tell him tales of how she and his grandfather fell in love over tea on their visits. It was actually a regular topic of conversation, a way for his grandmother to remember her husband, who had passed on a few years prior, and a way to connect with her dutiful grandson who enjoyed these stories more than he imagined the typical sixteen year old would. But he also had fond memories of his grandfather, at least a modicum warmer than his father, smiling at him and asking him about whatever sports activity he was involved in. He missed him greatly. </p><p>His eyes dropped to his sister’s hands that were splayed out on the table. “Where’s your soul tie, aneki?”</p><p>She shrugged, her hair falling gently into her face as she leaned forward. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not meant to have one?” This broke Kurosawa’s heart. Mostly because Yuzuki always seemed a bit lonely. She was smart and funny, boy was she funny, but she also was so very quiet around others. Kurosawa wished more people appreciated her subtle brilliance. But people always seemed to gravitate to what was shiny, and Kurosawa had somehow become the lure in the family.</p><p>“Maybe it just isn’t time yet,” he said, knocking his shoulder into hers, giving her a soft smile. His weapon of choice when managing any situation, his most powerful skill set. People tended to meet him halfway. If he gave a smile, they couldn’t help but join in, even if it was mostly superficial. With Yuzuki it was more often superficial in these kinds of conversations, but it at least smoothed things over in the moment, and reminded them both that despite how difficult things could be, they always had one another.</p>
<hr/><p>Kurosawa didn’t get the chance to tell his mother the way he wanted. Either she somehow noticed, or possibly Yuzuki told on him, but one day when he arrived home from school and went to drop his backpack in his room there was a small folded pamphlet on his bed.</p><p>The cover said:</p><p>
  <em>So you have a soul tie, now what?</em>
</p><p>Kurosawa’s face flushed. He knew it was natural, not something to be embarrassed about, but still, having to get an instructional pamphlet for a major life event made it feel as though he should be mortified. </p><p>
  <em>Soul ties are a gift from the universe, signifying that the owner has opened their heart to the possibility of a soul mate - a person that understands them above all others, one who they can share an extraordinary closeness with and love unconditionally.</em>
</p><p>Strange. Kurosawa wasn’t feeling as though he had an overtly open heart at the moment.</p><p>
  <em>Soul ties form first on the pinky finger, and often at different times for each soul mate. A string between the ties form as the bond grows, with the final seal of the bond complete when the string is fully formed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soul ties can be red or silver - signifying a romantic or platonic bond. </em>
</p><p>Kurosawa looked down at his hand. It was decidedly a red tie. A romantic love match. He scanned the rest of the pamphlet. Most of this information was not surprising. Soulmates often had an instant connection. Some soulmates even can sense each other’s emotions as the string forms, after they both have a tie. </p><p>When Kurosawa finally got to the FAQ, he paused.</p><p>
  <em>How long after you get your tie does your string to your soul mate appear?</em>
</p><p><em>This depends on many factors - your soul mate being open to the connection, the correct time in your lives. Some strings never fully form.</em> </p><p>Oh, Kurosawa hadn’t known that. He had just assumed that once you had a soul tie, your destiny was sealed. He hadn’t known that there was a chance you might not connect with your soul mate.</p><p>
  <em>What happens if your string never forms?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The connection with your soul mate may fade slowly and eventually your tie may disappear, allowing you to go on again as you once did, without it.</em>
</p><p>So maybe this whole thing wasn’t set in stone quite yet.</p>
<hr/><p>It had only been a few weeks when Kurosawa started feeling what could only be described as a tingling from the tie. He wondered if it was like a superhero with extrasensory powers - him locating his soulmate without even realizing it. It put him on high alert. Perhaps his soulmate was someone in his school, right under his nose. He took care to observe the other students in the hallways going to class, but no one specifically gave him any feelings of certainty,<em> this is the one</em>.</p><p>Some days he would get a sense from the tie - like it wanted attention.  Kurosawa would be in the library studying and he would look around, convinced his soulmate had to be near, coaxing him. But he found no signs of anyone who seemed right. Sometimes, just as an experiment, he twisted it. Sometimes touching it made him feel nervous, sometimes happy, sometimes relaxed. It was an odd sensation, as if touching it was somehow shaking up what was inside of it and releasing it to be soaked up by Kurosawa. It must have meant his soulmate's soul tie had finally formed.</p><p>One day, about six months after the tie appeared, Kurosawa had a major baseball game. It was a few months into the season and the intensity of school and athletics had started to weigh on him a bit. He could feel his body give out at the extremes - if he pushed himself too much physically or mentally, he found himself losing his edge. </p><p>He knew if it showed, his father would identify it as a lack of discipline so he did his best to hide it. He took naps in the library during lunch. He fit in extra drills in the early morning hours. Excellence in all things, that was his father’s motto, and he did all he could every day to live up to it. </p><p>This game was important. It was a qualifying game to go to the next round in the district tournament. Kurosawa was young to be a pitcher at this level of club. But he had been in clubs since he was a kid and he was used to this kind of pressure - the crowd, the eyes, the chaotic noises. He could tolerate anything if his father wasn’t watching. Thankfully he was away on business.</p><p>It was an extremely hot day and the sweat from his forehead was escaping his cap and dripping down into his eyes. He swiped some away with the back of his hand, as he tried to focus on the catcher. He shook off a few signals and settled on a slider, which he had been working on continuously the last few months. </p><p>Kurosawa glanced into the stands, to locate his mother’s face. He always gave her a smile before he started an inning. But this tradition was unfortunate because he caught a glimpse of his father, somehow there next to her in the stands. Kurosawa actually stuttered a bit before he caught himself.</p><p>But it was all too late, he was completely off. His rhythm blown. The grip on his first pitch was soft, the hitter launching it high out to center field - a double. It was all downhill from there. </p><p>After the game, his mother patted his arm and said she knew he tried his best. His father could only murmur “disappointing” without looking at him. Kurosawa made an excuse to avoid riding home with them, instead choosing to walk the five kilometers home. He didn’t care, as long as he didn’t have to be in a confined space with them.</p><p>Kurosawa was so angry with himself. Not for his game performance. It wasn’t his best, but he trained hard and was well-prepared. But he was not mentally prepared. He let his father’s presence get to him in a way he never had before. And he would not allow it again.</p><p>He passed by the other players as he left the locker room, making promises of doing better next time. The other players on his team were clearly down, shoving each other’s shoulders and lamented the loss of the tournament spot. Kurosawa inwardly felt a bit relieved. He had enjoyed baseball once, but it had become a slog. Despite the fact that they were no longer in the tournament, there would still be practices, he would not be completely free, but it was a short term respite at least.</p>
<hr/><p>As he walked home, he passed by a number of small shops on the street. He stared through their windows as he considered all the pieces in his life that felt out of his control. He wished he had something in his life that was just his. </p><p>As he came to a small bookshop on the corner, his tie demanded his attention. This was not the little tingling or the emotional sprinklings he had experienced before. It was forceful, certain.</p><p>Kurosawa wasn’t sure how, but he knew the tie wanted him to go into the store. Inside, the shop was rows and rows of shelves with books piled high. As he wandered, the sensation stopped, suddenly quiet. Losing the sense of determination, Kurosawa took to perusing the shelves. His eyeline landed on a series that he had never seen before, <em>Dances with Dragons</em>. He didn’t know why, but he decided to buy the first three, suddenly excited to huddle up at home and read them.</p><p>He stopped again at the front of the shop, just taking the whole place in, scanning the mostly empty store, a bit dumbfounded by the whole experience. Still, he found nothing of note, so he decided to head home.</p>
<hr/><p>
The day Yuzuki left for school, Kurosawa had a stone in the pit of his stomach. She wasn’t going far, but having her at home had always felt like he had an ally on his side, even if they also fought like siblings do. </p><p>It always was his job to make sure everything was in order, everyone got along. Tension at family dinners was like a suffocating, thick blanket that Kurosawa could not tolerate. If things were too hard, he could just look at Yuzuki and she would squeeze his wrist, they were in it together. Except, they weren’t going to be any longer.</p><p>“Hey, those are my headphones!” he said as he saw her wrapping the cords up tight around them.</p><p>“Are you sure?” She said, furrowing her brow. “Yuichi, you gave these to me, remember?”</p><p>Kurosawa folded his arms. She always did this. Always tried to convince him that her idea was his. The last time this happened they had argued over who owned his baseball sweatshirt for two weeks, Kurosawa finally relenting when she refused to take it off, arguing how adorable she looked in it. He didn’t have the heart to fight today. “Fine,” he agreed.</p><p>But then he spotted some books peeking out from under piles of her clothes. “Hey, wait, what else are you taking?” </p><p>Yuzuki shrugged, as she folded another pair of pants. “Some of those are on my reading lists.”</p><p>Kurosawa pulled out a copy of <em>The Tale of Genji </em>and folded it under his arm. It had been part of his summer reading list last summer and there were sections that were so beautiful, it made Kurosawa ache. He wasn’t ready to part with it. “Get a copy at school,” he said, as she tried to protest. He thought idly, perhaps some of the tanka would be helpful to reread now that he knew he had a soulmate out there.</p><p>Yuzuki grabbed her rolling suitcase. Kurosawa helped grab her duffel bag. They made their way to the living room.</p><p>Their father was sitting reading the newspaper, face buried behind a paper wall. </p><p>Yuzuki went to say goodbye and he said simply, “Good luck. Don’t embarrass the family.”</p><p>It was what Kurosawa expected. His father’s disapproval always loomed large. It wasn’t that he was cruel. He showed his love by how hard he worked for his family. And he showed his love for their mother by dutifully doing whatever she asked within their home. He was just more concerned about what the people outside it thought.</p><p>Yuzuki gave Kurosawa a pained look as they walked toward the door. Their mother stood there quietly, her eyes a bit wet. Kurosawa’s heart twisted. He didn’t want Yuichi to leave this way. He pulled her in for a hug, something that was not all that typical for them to do. “I’ll miss you,” he said, because he was not going to be like his father. He was going to tell people how he felt.</p><p>She nodded into his shoulder and jerked her attention to the horn of the taxi outside. </p><p>“Bye, Mom,” She said as she hugged their mother and then gave them both a last look before she headed out the door.</p><p>Kurosawa couldn’t remember the last time he felt so sad and yet, for some reason, a wash of comfort gradually overcame him. He made his way to his bedroom to settle himself into another book of <em>Dances with Dragons</em>. The sensations he felt picking up these books was much like the warmth he felt when he smelled his grandmother’s tea or tasted his mother’s cooking. An emotional connection immediately infused into the experience. And for this reason, he found himself going back to the story over and over in the next few years as a source of comfort and calm. </p>
<hr/>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm sorry this has been such a long time coming. It is possible I was wallowing along with Kurosawa. The next chapter will be ready very soon and the last is being drafted so this should be finished within the week.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kurosawa sometimes forgot about his soul tie. There was a lot of big fanfare and attention to it at first and then, well, nothing. It was almost as if the universe had forgotten him. His mother would sometimes grab his hand and hold it up to look at the tie and make a soft clucking sound. “You just never know when the time will be right,” she’d say. “Some people take years, decades to discover their true soulmate.” And then she would set his hand down and pat it gently and not speak of it again.</p>
<p>And so, he went along as he did before, following the path that his father had laid out for him because it kept the peace, because it made his mother give a soft smile, because when his sister came home and they were all together, she would lean against his shoulder and say “I’m so proud of you.” Everyone’s expectations carved in stone.</p>
<p>Kurosawa’s father was a medical researcher and that is what he intended his son to be. Job security, respect, a good salary, his father’s connections. Kurosawa was good enough at math and science that it was a viable path for him. But his father’s lifestyle seemed so isolating. Research. Conferences. Writing. Books. </p>
<p>Not that he didn’t enjoy books, he just enjoyed characters. He liked to consider people and what made them tick. He suspected that was the opposite of what his father enjoyed, although they had never really talked about it.</p>
<p>So he went off to Keio to the school of medicine. His father was pleased, which was a rarity. He did not know that Kurosawa had selected his school based on factors that had aligned more with his interests, the ability to take courses outside of the lock step curriculum and engaging extracurriculars. He needed outlets to get through. He needed his life to not be completely laid out before him.</p>
<p>He drifted toward psychology. He decided he could focus on neuroscience and still follow the path set for him, but his favorite class had been a business course he had taken on a whim.</p>
<p>His roommate had said he planned to take a marketing class that semester. He was kind of quiet and mostly kept to himself. Kurosawa had done his best to get to know him, but he just appeared as though he liked his space and liked to keep his distance so when he suggested this course, Kurosawa thought why not?</p>
<p>Taking the marketing class did not result in him getting to know his roommate better, but he did discover he enjoyed the combination of considering how people thought and behaved with a set goal. It was complicated, interesting and challenging. It was the opposite feeling that he got from his fundamental classes for the medical program. They were extremely difficult and time consuming and involved mostly memorization and calculations. They made Kurosawa miserable.</p>
<p>It was in another business class, in the first semester of his second year, where he first thought he found his soulmate. It wasn’t like the stories. It wasn’t like all the things that you would see in television and books where people would endlessly talk about being lovesick. But honestly, Kurosawa never really felt that way about anyone, so he wasn’t so sure that really happened. He had never seen a demonstration of it in real life. Never witnessed it with his own eyes. He had seen moony teenagers fall all over each other, but he had not been convinced it was the same thing. </p>
<p>This was something different than he had experienced with other people. When she smiled at him, he felt warm. From the moment when they first talked, he was at ease. She had her own soul tie, which is why his mind had wandered there. Thinking she could be his match.</p>
<p>Her name was Fujisaki Nozomi. She had been partnered with him on a project. She was methodical and careful when she spoke. She was clearly very smart, and did not hesitate to challenge Kurosawa when his ideas deserved it. She reminded him of his sister, someone who saw him as reachable, as a real life person and not some idea. </p>
<p>He had friends from the baseball team and from student government. But they always felt fairly superficial. He wondered what it was about him that kept people from wanting to really know him. Girls seemed to want to flirt with him, boys seemed to want to be seen with him, but if you asked any of them anything about Kurosawa, would they even know? Although he wasn’t sure if others could get to know him if he didn’t even know himself.</p>
<p>He had found himself in darker moments wondering about his soulmate. Wondering if this person would simply look at him and think of him as a prize, a shiny object to show off to others. It left a sour taste in his mouth. But if his soul mate was more like Fujisaki, he could be satisfied with that. </p>
<p>By the end of the semester, he thought of Fujisaki as his best friend. She was kind, she always listened. She never judged when he let slip that he sometimes didn’t have a handle on everything. He was comfortable with her.</p>
<p>One day he got up the courage enough to ask her. “Fujisaki, do you know who your soulmate is?” </p>
<p>She looked down at her finger, wiggling the tie a bit. A soft smile curled at the edges of her lips. “No,” she said simply.</p>
<p>“Do you think we could be soulmates?” He held up his finger to show his tie, red and shiny. </p>
<p>“No,” she said, firmly but she was not unkind. She held hers up and it had a strange coloring. As though it had not decided what color tie it was - it flicked silver, red even gold. </p>
<p>Kurosawa’s brow furrowed. “How can you be so sure? Every time I learn something new about a soul tie, it seems like no one really knows anything about them.”</p>
<p>Fujisaki nodded. “Mmm, yes, it does seem so. But I just know. I think being able to recognize your soulmate may be the one thing that is certain in all of this.”</p>
<p>He knew Fujisaki was right, mostly because she always was. But the acceptance of this re-formed the stone in his stomach. The unease of not knowing what this all meant. Why he hadn’t met his soulmate yet and what was to come.</p><hr/>
<p>A few months later, after a particularly grueling exam, Kurosawa joined Fujisaki for lunch. He could feel the tension in his shoulders, but did his best to keep himself up straight. Kurosawa always held himself properly regardless if what he wanted to really do was lay down under the table. He would never do something so shameful, even in the worst of times.</p>
<p>Still Fujisaki knew. “Tough exam?” She asked.</p>
<p>“Mmm,” he said, nodding, wishing he never had to learn a single second of organic chemistry again.</p>
<p>Fujisaki nodded and slipped through a glossy brochure. “Have you heard of this scholarship? The Sato Scholarship?”</p>
<p>“No,” Kurosawa admitted, opening up his lunch. </p>
<p>“It pays for students to study in the U.S. Either for a semester or longer. It pays your tuition and room and board for certain schools.”</p>
<p>“Do you want to apply?” Kurosawa said, placing his food out on the table.</p>
<p>“I haven’t decided. But it is prestigious. There are employment opportunities after it.”</p>
<p>Kurosawa accepted the brochure Fujisaki handed him, leafing through it. A small kernel of possibility took hold. Kurosawa’s entire life felt set, preplanned, a track that would not diverge. But maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t the case.</p><hr/>
<p>Kurosawa had never been this far from home. Ever. He and his family had taken a trip to Taiwan when he and his sister were younger. His father appeared to be miserable the entire time. He had occasionally expressed curiosity about international travel and his father told him it was frivolous. </p>
<p>Kurosawa knew the only way he was able to do this was because it cost his father nothing and it was part of his course plan. The fact that there was some family prestige involved did not hurt one bit. But it also meant he was going to get very little support from his family beyond what his mother could send without his father’s knowledge. </p>
<p>He had arranged for pick up at the airport. It was easy enough to take him to the school in a small residential neighborhood of Portland. The trees were lush and green. It was a city, but not. It was a fraction of the size of Tokyo and that was immediately noticeable. The intimacy was more like his hometown than the city. But also not at all like anything he had experienced.</p>
<p>The buildings were brick and covered with ivy and so much smaller than his multistory dorm at Keio. But inside the stark rooms were similar, a simple bed, chair and desk. </p>
<p><em>Welcome to my new home</em>, he thought to himself.</p><hr/>
<p>The first week was a blur. He had been taking English classes for a while at the urging of his mother. His father thought it was a waste of time, as he did anything that was not part of his plan, but both he and Kurosawa’s mother had learned English conversationally and it was enough to get his father to assent to his mother’s urging. But Kurosawa rarely spoke with native English speakers and had only been taking classes in English to learn the language, not in any of the other areas he had been studying. It was a new challenge.</p>
<p>Getting around proved difficult at times. Names were unfamiliar. It took him a while to figure out what he wanted to say when he was asked questions during conversations. In classes it was like he was a step or two behind. The classroom structure was completely different and the instructor expected everyone to regularly say something. By the time he thought of ways to contribute, the conversation was already way past him. </p>
<p>By the end of the day he was too exhausted to socialize with people. And his roommate, an exchange student from India, was extremely quiet. He was nice, but he had a friend who had also come as part of the program and the two of them would go off together frequently. Yet another roommate he was unable to befriend.</p>
<p>Kurosawa took out his laptop and wrote an email to Fujisaki. He wanted to update her since she was the reason he was there. Fujisaki had won her own scholarship, but was still thousands of kilometers away on the other side of the country. </p>
<p><em>It is unbelievable.</em> Fujisaki wrote.<em> There is so much to learn and discover. This is the best decision I’ve ever made.</em></p>
<p>Kurosawa wished he felt the same.</p><hr/>
<p>By the end of the month, Kurosawa was exhausted and homesick. It rained every day, something that Kurosawa had not fully realized would be the case. He had brought an umbrella, but the rainy season in Japan was in the summer and he was not equipped for the chill that the cold and the wet combined soaked into his bones. </p>
<p>The lack of sun was also more unpleasant than one would consider if they had never before gone without the sun for weeks on end. It was an overall feeling of gray gloom, coupled with his difficulty in all his classes and his struggle with meeting people. Kurosawa had always had acquaintances, people to spend time with and chat, even if they weren’t his closest friends. Here, he had no one.</p>
<p>It had already been <em>a day.</em> The food he was eating had started to taste like ash and his sister had an exam to study for and couldn’t speak at their regular time early in the morning and it was raining again and all Kurosawa wanted was to feel warm and comfortable, but he had to go to a reception for his scholarship that evening. </p>
<p>He decided to bake some milk bread using a recipe his mother sent him, in hopes of feeling some semblance of home. He hadn’t found a good specialty grocery store yet and there didn’t appear to be any good restaurants on the bus route and all he wanted was something that reminded him of his mother’s cooking. Something normal.</p>
<p>The cooking utensils in the shared dorm kitchen left a lot to be desired. He had prepared the dough earlier and was letting it rise. He rifled through the pots and pans, looking for a bread pan. It was a mishmash of abandoned cookware, but he finally found something that would work. He set the temp and sat down at the table, waiting for the oven to raise to temp. It beeped almost immediately. </p>
<p>Kurosawa put the bread in the oven and started flipping through his work again. He had finally started to get the rhythm of his business class. It had a focus on sales in international markets, and Kurosawa found that fascinating. </p>
<p>He would also start a practicum class in a week that allowed him to practice his English in a clinical setting. It was multiple credits, allowing for him to learn about clinical work in the U.S. and also strengthen his language skills. He was going to finally work more with people, something he looked forward to doing. </p>
<p>His remaining class was a programming course. He had never taken one before. It wasn’t something he had been offered in the medical school. But he had always been fascinated by data and using it for research, so he decided since he could do it, he should. Unfortunately, the mixture of his inexperience with the subject and the language adjustments meant he had to spend so much more time on it than he did other classes.</p>
<p>The oven timer went off and he pulled out the bread dough. It was practically stone cold. Was the oven broken? He surveyed it; the pan was <em>slightly</em> warm. He looked at the recipe his mom had sent him and then it hit him. The temperature on the recipe was in Celsius and the temperature on the oven was in Fahrenheit. He sat down at the table and placed his forehead to it, just to breathe through it. God, he was such an idiot. </p><hr/>
<p>The rain was a light drizzle as he made his way out to the reception. But the wind was wild and unwieldy, pulling at his umbrella and making it difficult to walk in a straight line. He was just outside in the courtyard when his umbrella completely flipped inside out, startling Kurosawa enough that he dropped his bag in hopes of getting it right side in before he got soaked. He struggled with it for what felt like an eternity, but was in all likelihood only a few minutes, the rain making it difficult to see, his hair dripping down his forehead. </p>
<p>And then, the rain was no longer splattering into his eyes, bright blue galoshes coming into view at his feet. He moved his eyeline upwards, settling on a soft, warm smile. A bright blue umbrella, matching the boots, was now covering Kurosawa’s head.</p>
<p>“Come on,” the young man said. “I’ll walk you inside.”</p>
<p>Kurosawa nodded, scrambling to gather the misshapen umbrella and his backpack, shuffling quickly the remaining distance to the overhang of the academic building.</p>
<p>“Thank you,” Kurosawa said, brushing the water droplets off his shoulders and patting his hair out of his eyes and off his forehead. “I’m Kurosawa,” he said, having at least gotten used to introducing himself how he preferred others to address him.</p>
<p>“Adachi Kiyoshi,” he said and gave a bow. Oh, he was Japanese too. </p>
<p>Kurosawa bowed back. “Ah, Kurosawa Yuichi,” he gave a formal greeting. “Are you here for the Sato Scholarship reception?”</p>
<p>“Mmm,” Adachi said, nodding. “I can show you where it is.” He shook out his umbrella as he closed it. “It is just through those doors,” he said gesturing in front of them. “I have another stop to make, but I’ll be joining in a bit.</p>
<p>“Arigatou,” Kurosawa said, nodding again. His eyes followed Adachi as he went into a room down the hallway. For some reason, his feet were firmly planted. He knew he should be going into the event, but he just stood there a bit dumbfounded. Kurosawa finally came back to himself and shook off whatever impulse was keeping him there, walking through the double doors. Inside, there was a small group of people chatting and a table with name tags. </p>
<p>Kurosawa greeted the staff from the study abroad program and met some of the other Sato Scholars. His eyes kept drifting to the door, wondering when Adachi would join them. </p>
<p>When he finally walked in, he had taken off his raincoat and changed out of the adorable blue boots. He glanced in Kurosawa’s direction and smiled. Kurosawa’s stomach dropped. It was like that feeling in dreams when you were suddenly able to fly swirled in with the feeling when you were falling and you had no idea when you would hit bottom.</p>
<p>It was startling. It took his breath away.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” One of the other scholars, Ikeda was it? Had asked. </p>
<p>“Yes,” Kurosawa managed to answer.</p>
<p>Adachi stopped at the table and looked as though he was straightening some of the materials. His hair was a bit mussed and he curled his shoulders as if he was a bit shy, not a person used to standing out, despite the fact that Kurosawa couldn’t see anyone else. </p>
<p>“Oh, yeah, that’s Adachi,” Ikeda said, following Kurosawa’s gaze. “He said he’s been here for three years so he is definitely a good person to know.” She took a sip of her drink. “He’s nice, but he kind of keeps to himself. But if you ask him questions about the school, he will definitely help.”</p>
<p>Every time Kurosawa tried to make his way over to Adachi, he somehow was pulled in the opposite direction. It was almost comical, like they were polar opposites of a magnet being pushed around and repelled from one another. It was possible he would have to make his way through greeting every other person in the room before he would get a chance to speak to Adachi.</p>
<p>Kurosawa was at the point of exasperation, deciding it was better to be perceived as rude than to not talk to Adachi for one more minute. But as he excused himself from another staff person, Adachi was already gone.</p><hr/>
<p>That evening, Kurosawa looked up Adachi in the online directory and started drafting an email.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hi Adachi, I think you’re my soulmate. Could we get together for a chat?</em>
</p>
<p>Kurosawa stared at the blinking cursor and quickly deleted the whole thing.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hi Adachi, I’m so glad we were able to meet and talk for those whole two minutes. I think I am destined to love you. </em>
</p>
<p>Kurosawa groaned and frantically pressed the backspace.</p>
<p>
  <strike>
    <em></em>
  </strike>
  <em>Hi Adachi, what do you think about this whole soulmate business? Would love to hear your thoughts.</em>
</p>
<p>This was just not working. He had no idea what to say.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hi Adachi, do you even believe in fate?</em>
</p>
<p>Kurosawa dropped his head on his desk, placing his phone face down on the surface. Maybe an email wasn’t the way to go. He could go by the study abroad office and see if he could find a way to meet up with him. Kurosawa was sure there would be another meeting of the Sato Scholars that semester, but it would mean waiting to try to figure this all out. He didn’t think he could stand that.</p>
<p>His phone beeped. Kurosawa picked it up.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hi Kurosawa. Sure, why not?</em>
</p>
<p>Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Kurosawa was so exasperated he accidentally pressed send on that last message.</p>
<p>Kurosawa typed and deleted more times than he could count and finally settled on -</p>
<p>
  <em>Do you want to have lunch together tomorrow?</em>
</p>
<p>He sent it and stared blankly at his screen. Waiting.</p>
<p>It was only a minute when Adachi responded, <em>Ok</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Some emotional fanart of very sad college Kurosawa by the immensely talented <a href="/users/yamazaki_zakuro/">yamazaki_zakuro</a></p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> </p>
  <p>    <br/></p>
</div>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They agreed to meet at the campus cafe. Kurosawa promised himself he would not mention the ‘S’ word. He didn’t <em>really</em> know for sure. It was just an overwhelming feeling that had kept him from thinking about anything else the last twenty four hours. That’s all. No big deal. </p><p>When he got to the entrance, Adachi was by the door, pacing back and forth and mumbling to himself. He scrubbed the back of his hair and shuffled his feet. God, everything he did was just so charming. Kurosawa tried to bite back the smile that wanted to slip out. Be. Cool.</p><p>“Hi Adachi,” Kurosawa said, giving him kind of a half bow, still trying to adjust to the informality of the U.S. His teachers told him to call them by their first names. It was embarrassing as he tried to spit their names out. But he was determined to adjust so he would behave the way everyone expected until he got used to it.</p><p>“Hello Kurosawa,” Adachi said, giving him a bow. Kurosawa was just comfortable in Adachi’s presence, the result of a shared experience that neither of them had actually shared with one another, he supposed.</p><p>The cafe was cafeteria style, so they each went about picking up what they wanted and then sat down together. There were some dishes they called Asian-fusion that seemed to mostly involve a lot of rice and not a lot of flavor. But it was better than some of the other things available. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried various American fare before, but too much of it had left him feeling ill.</p><p>Adachi sat down with some sort of salad and some french fries, clearly having gotten used to the food in his years here. “They have great fries,” he said. “But I’m sure the food is an adjustment.”</p><p>Kurosawa nodded. It was such a simple thing, but he hadn’t really anticipated it and some acknowledgment of its ability to make him feel completely off kilter was nice. </p><p>“So you’ve been here for three years?”</p><p>“Mmm,” Adachi nodded. “I went home the first summer, but last summer I had an internship here so it’s been a while since I’ve been back.”</p><p>“That must be hard,” Kurosawa said, pushing his food around.</p><p>“Well, my uncle and his family live here so I see them a lot. It helps.” Adachi titled his head toward Kurosawa. “So, are you not liking it?” he asked.</p><p>Kurosawa shrugged. He had felt completely and utterly untethered the last month and now, the possibility this whole experience had a true purpose had shaken things up even more. To say he did not like it was missing the mark, but he had no idea how to even begin to describe what he was feeling so he just said, “It’s been hard.”</p><p>Kurosawa glanced at Adachi’s hand, his stomach dropping again, this time, a curl of disappointment churning in him. Adachi did not have a soul tie on his finger.</p><p>Adachi nodded. “I started working at the study abroad office last year. They talk a lot about culture shock. Some people have this big honeymoon period where it is all exciting. Some people feel homesick. Most everyone has some sort of curve where they dip after a month or two.” Adachi was now playing with the straw of his drink, swirling the ice around. “It helped me to find that out.”</p><p>“So you feel comfortable here now?” Kurosawa asked.</p><p>Adachi laughed. “I wouldn’t say that. I have figured out how to manage, I guess.” He shook the thought off a bit. The comment sounded as though it held a heavier weight than Adachi was willing to divulge. “Anyway, I understand. If you need someone to talk about it with, I’m happy to. You don’t have to act like everything is perfect.”</p><p>“Why do you say that?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Adachi shrugged. “I just got this sense at the reception that you are the guy who is used to having all the answers.”</p><p>It was a bizarre sensation to feel so seen by someone whom he had spent such little time with. He wiggled his tie on his pinky again wondering if this soulmate thing wasn't as simple as it appeared to be.</p>
<hr/><p>If the universe did not intend on them being soulmates, it still seemed determined to bring Adachi and Kurosawa together as much as possible. They ran into each other in the food court fairly regularly. Adachi had the same morning class schedule and they began to eat lunch together if they saw one another. He always seemed to blush a bit when Kurosawa suggested they sit together. It made something stir in his chest.</p><p>And okay, maybe Kurosawa decided to drop by the study abroad office when he knew Adachi would be working. He was the only person he would consider a friend here and the staff was always nice. He would sometimes study in the lounge next door, hoping to get a glimpse of Adachi to say hello.</p><p>They liked some of the same movies and games. Adachi was easy to be with. He still seemed pretty shy, but he always greeted Kurosawa with a soft smile. And he asked lots of questions, as if he was actually curious about Kurosawa and what he thought about things. Real things like books and travel. And his studies. Adachi was clearly smart, a computer science major with a business minor, and yet, when he talked about coding or his classes, he never dumbed it down for Kurosawa. </p><p>This time when Kurosawa went into the office, a tall guy with glasses was leaning over Adachi, looking at his computer screen. Kurosawa’s shoulders tensed, but he made a conscious attempt at relaxing as he walked up to greet them.</p><p>“Hi, Kurosawa,” Adachi said. The way he said Kurosawa’s name made him stutter a bit. “This is Tsuge Masato. He's another Sato Scholar.”</p><p>“Oh, hello,” Kurosawa greeted him. Tsuge nodded back and gave an awkward half smile. He mumbled something about needing to go to the library and left fairly quickly.</p><p>“Sorry if I interrupted,” Kurosawa said.</p><p>“Oh, no, it’s fine.” Adachi waved it off. “Tsuge is just nervous around new people. It’s something we have in common.”</p><p>Kurosawa rounded the desk and sat down at the reception style chairs in the waiting area, dropping his bag at his feet. “If it’s that hard to be around new people, why did you study abroad?” Kurosawa knew it wasn’t polite to ask, but he couldn’t help it, he wanted to know.</p><p>“It’s funny. My parents really wanted me to come here. They basically pushed me on the plane. They met on a school trip to England and were convinced that I needed to get out and see the world, find my soulmate.” Adachi was looking down now, twisting his hands. “They’re platonic soulmates so I guess they didn’t want me to miss out or anything.”</p><p>Kurosawa’s heart thudded at the mention of Adachi’s soulmate. “But you don’t have a tie?”</p><p>Adachi lifted his hand. “No, not yet at least. I thought maybe once I was getting it, but I guess I was wrong.” He shrugged. “My parents still think it will happen. Who knows why. They are stubborn. And sweet. They married their best friend so I think they get all wrapped up in it all.”</p><p>“Right, you said they were platonic soulmates and they still got married?”</p><p>“Mmm, yeah. The ties indicate the primary bond, but that doesn’t mean you can’t form others.” Adachi gestured toward Kurosawa’s hand. “Do you know who yours is?”</p><p>“No, not yet.” </p><p>Adachi shrugged. “I’m sure whatever is meant to be will be. No use worrying too much about it.”</p><p>Kurosawa could not help but be concerned, but ultimately, he thought Adachi was right. And in the meantime, he could get to know Adachi better. “Would you want to come over and watch <em>Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi</em> with me tonight? You said you liked Miyazaki Hayao’s work right?”</p><p>“Oh ah, um, I can’t. I am supposed to study with Tsuge.”</p><p>Kurosawa’s stomach twisted at the rejection, but he kept his voice level when he said, “Oh, okay. No problem. Maybe some other time.” </p>
<hr/><p>It had been a few weeks and <em>some other time</em> never arrived. In fact, Kurosawa stopped running into Adachi at lunch time, only really seeing him if he went by the study abroad office, which he had less and less reason to do. </p><p>Kurosawa couldn’t help wondering what Tsuge and Adachi’s relationship was. He recalled how close they were leaning together, how comfortable they appeared to be, despite Adachi saying they were both nervous around other people. Was Adachi avoiding him because of Tsuge?</p><p>Kurosawa decided it was time to stop moping and start branching out. He discovered there was a softball club that practiced in the gym once a week and would start playing games once the weather was better. He wasn’t completely familiar with the game, but considering it was intramural and fairly close to baseball, he figured he could try. </p><p>And he signed up for a club that focused on business in the Asia-Pacific region. It was recommended by his Organizational Behavior professor and their speakers seemed interesting. Kurosawa walked into the event, determined to put his best foot forward. They were serving wine and he considered for a moment before he decided that one glass wouldn’t hurt. It was after all, part of the reception. </p><p>Some pleasant looking women came to speak to him, asking him his name, talking about the school. This part Kurosawa was always good at - making polite conversation, asking questions to make others feel comfortable. </p><p>His attention snagged when he noticed Adachi and Tsuge enter the room. He finished his glass and placed it on a tray as he excused himself. Adachi met eyes with him, gave him a small smile and nodded before he went to sit down. </p><p>Kurosawa started to walk towards them but the seats around them were all taken. He instead slid into the back row behind them. During the entire duration of the talk, Tsuge kept leaning over, whispering things to Adachi. Kurosawa’s blood was a slow simmer as he sat there trying to listen, but failing miserably. </p><p>After the talk, somehow one more glass of wine became two. Adachi still seemed as though he was trying to avoid him. Had he done something wrong? Had he already messed this up? The room had felt a little off kilter, so Kurosawa decided to finish his drink sitting down. He accepted that Adachi didn’t seem to want to speak to him tonight.</p><p>So it was especially startling when he heard his soft, kind voice say, “Hi, Kurosawa.”</p><p>“Adachi?” He looked up at him from his chair, his whole body loosening as he took in his beautiful features. </p><p>“Are you okay?” He asked. “You look like maybe you need to go home.”</p><p>He tried to stand, but the whole world swayed a bit. How many drinks had he had? Was it three? Four? He had lost track.</p><p>Adachi grabbed him under his arm and pulled. “How about I walk you home, alright?”</p><p>Kurosawa nodded and followed along with him easily, although his footing was a bit unsteady. They stopped at the coat rack. Adachi gave Kurosawa his coat, but he had lost some coordination and it kept slipping out of his grasp when he tried to put it on. </p><p>“Here,” Adachi said, slipping it over his shoulders and taking him by his arm again. Even impaired, Kurosawa could see how absolutely breathtaking Adachi was. He had no idea how he didn’t have flocks of people following him every day just to bask in his beauty. Maybe if Kurosawa did that then Adachi wouldn’t run away from him. Maybe if he knew how much Kurosawa wanted to just see him, he would let him be next to him. </p><p>“You’re so pretty,” he blurted, as they walked across campus. </p><p>Adachi laughed. “I think you probably had a little too much to drink and that is the wine talking.”</p><p>“Noooooo,” Kurosawa said, shaking his head rapidly. “It is my face talking, my mouth, me. It’s me talking,” he finally grasped the words. “Is that why you don’t want to talk to me?”</p><p>Adachi stopped and frowned. “I want to talk to you.”</p><p>“Pssh,” Kurosawa said, his legs finally too heavy to keep going. He dropped down on the ground, leaning next to one of the trees. </p><p>“Kurosawa!” Adachi called out, as he tried to keep him upright. “You can’t stay here!”</p><p>“Just a rest,” he said, pulling at Adachi’s arm. “Come sit with me.”</p><p>Adachi groaned, but brushed at the grass with his foot and then finally sat down next to him. </p><p>Kurosawa’s head was so heavy, but he was determined to stay focused. “Is Tsuge your boyfriend?”</p><p>Adachi laughed so loud it made Kurosawa jump. “Sorry,” he said, grabbing Kurosawa’s arm and steadying him. “No, Tsuge is not my boyfriend.” He picked up a stick from the ground and twirled it in his fingers, his other hand still burning into Kurosawa’s arm. “Tsuge is my best friend.”</p><p>“But your parents married their best friend,” Kurosawa protested. He suspected his line of questioning wasn’t as clear as he intended it, but he couldn’t stop now. </p><p>“Yes, but Tsuge and I don’t have that kind of relationship,” Adachi said. </p><p>“Then why didn’t you want to talk to me?” Kurosawa asked again. </p><p>It was so dark, it was hard to see Adachi’s exact expression, but his nose seemed to scrunch a bit. “I am just…” he sighed. “I’m just a little intimidated by you, that’s all.”</p><p>It was Kurosawa’s turn to laugh. “This? Is intimidating?” </p><p>“Well, when you put it that way,” Adachi said. “I’m sorry. I thought you were just being nice. I didn’t think you wanted to be friends.”</p><p>Friends. Kurosawa supposed that was better than <em>not </em>friends.</p><p>Kurosawa finally let his head fall against the tree, satisfied with the information he had gathered and no longer able to keep upright. The bark scratched his face a bit and he let out a hiss. 
</p><p>“Here,” Adachi said, pulling Kurosawa toward him and placing his head on Adachi’s shoulder. “Just rest a minute.”</p><p>Kurosawa breathed deeply, taking in Adachi’s warm, sweet scent, something floral and wonderful.</p><p>“You’re really nice, Adachi,” Kurosawa mumbled, feeling himself drift off. “I really like you.”</p><p>“I like you too, Kurosawa,” he said as Kurosawa let himself be pulled into the dark.</p>
<hr/><p>
When Kurosawa woke, he had a splitting headache and he was still wearing his suit. He had no idea how he got to his dorm room, but based on what he last remembered, he suspected it was Adachi’s doing. </p><p>He picked up a bottle of water, peeled off his clothes and climbed back into bed. When he woke again, the sun was high and a beeping noise had been coming from his phone. </p><p><em>Just checking in </em>the text read.</p><p>Apparently he and Adachi had exchanged phone numbers. He wondered what else he did not easily recollect. The possibility made him feel a bit concerned, but it couldn’t be too bad if Adachi was already texting him.</p><p>
  <em>Hope you’re feeling ok </em>
</p><p>He responded, <em>I’m ok. Thank you for helping me.</em></p><p><em>No problem,</em> the response said. <em>Do you still want help studying?</em></p><p>Kurosawa had no idea what Adachi was referring to, but he wasn’t going to let this chance slip by, so he wrote back -</p><p>
  <em>Yes, how about 1?</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Kurosawa was not exactly sure what he was doing here. His soul tie hadn’t changed, still red and sparkly as he moved it around his pinky. Adachi still decidedly did not have a tie. And yet, Kurosawa couldn’t stay away from him. Even if it was just friends, it would have to be enough.</p><p>He threw all his books into his backpack having no idea what they were studying, and set off for the library. Adachi had asked him to meet in one of the study rooms on the lower level. </p><p>When he got there he had his notebook open on one of the tables and a coding book. Ah, his programming course. Of course.</p><p>“How’s your head?” Adachi asked, shifting his books over to make room for Kurosawa. </p><p>“Okay,” he said, sitting down. “I’m sorry about all that.”</p><p>Adachi shook his head. “It’s fine. You just wouldn’t let me leave until I promised to tutor you, so this whole arrangement is kind of under duress.” Although his words sounded scolding, Adachi said it with a shy grin.</p><p>Kurosawa dropped his head to the table and groaned. “I’m sorry, we don’t have to study.”</p><p>Adachi laughed. “A promise is a promise.”</p><p>Kurosawa felt badly enough that he made sure he paid extra attention to the problem set Adachi was reviewing with him. He made it look so easy, his explanations were clear and concepts that Kurosawa had been studying for weeks finally made sense.</p><p>“You’re a good student,” Adachi said, picking up his backpack. He rifled around in it for a minute and dropped a candy package and a snack bag on the table. “My mom sent me a care package. Thought you might like these.”</p><p>“Oh my god, matcha Kit Kats! Can you even get these here?”</p><p>Adachi shrugged. “Sometimes at the Asian specialty grocer across town, but it isn’t a regular item.” He pushed them over toward Kurosawa. “And this one is a limited time snack my mom found. I tried some already, they’re pretty good.”</p><p>“Are you sure, Adachi?” Kurosawa asked. “I’d understand if you didn’t want to share them.”</p><p>“Yeah, of course. I hope it reminds you of a bit of home.”</p><p>Kurosawa’s heart leapt into his throat because it was Adachi, not the snacks, that felt more like home.</p>
<hr/><p>Kurosawa was finally finding his place at this school. Softball practices had started outside. Getting to play and get out of his head was doing wonders for his mood. He and Adachi were getting closer, the weirdness between them finally gone. He met Tsuge and he was truly the disaster Adachi had said he was. He would often get skittish and take off without warning. Kurosawa had begun to find it charming, along with Adachi’s nervous ticks.</p><p>Adachi had little rules for a lot of things. Things Kurosawa wouldn’t have even realized if he hadn’t asked a lot of questions. He didn’t like to go to the cafeteria when it was too busy. He didn’t want to study in the copier room because people tended to be loud there and he didn’t want to ask them to quiet down. He got intimidated by the athletes easily and didn’t want to join Kurosawa when he talked with his softball friends. </p><p>But the thing was, if someone needed help, he would completely disregard any of these rules without question. He was the kindest person Kurosawa had ever known.</p><p>Adachi was supposed to start his shift at the study abroad office in a little bit. He typically had lunch beforehand, so Kurosawa planned to see if he could catch him at the cafeteria. Kurosawa’s mother had sent him his own care package and he had a few items he wanted to give Adachi. He hoped he would smile that cute shy half smile where he bit his lip and scrunched his nose. </p><p>Kurosawa’s step was light. He was amazingly, truly happy. He walked along in blissful reverie until he was stopped in his tracks in a heartbeat. It was an early spring day, the weather had warmed up and the barren tree in the middle of the courtyard was now in full bloom, covered in white and pink blossoms. The most beautiful cherry tree. Sitting at the base of the tree, cheeks pink, nose buried in a book, was Adachi. </p><p>It took Kurosawa’s breath away.  </p><p>He moved toward Adachi with such intensity, he startled himself as he stopped up short and dropped to the ground beside him.</p><p>“I had no idea this tree was here.”</p><p>“I know, it’s nice, right? I try to make time to enjoy it every spring since it blooms for such a short period of time.”</p><p>Kurosawa knew he must be smiling like a foolish idiot, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to take it all in, this perfect moment, sitting there with Adachi in the spring breeze. And then his heart stopped for the second time.</p><p>“Is that<em> Dances with Dragons</em>?”</p><p>“Yeah, have you read it?”</p><p>Kurosawa shifted in closer to look over Adachi’s shoulder. “Yes! It’s my favorite.”</p><p>“Mine too,” Adachi said, beaming. “I’ve loved it ever since high school. I reread them all from time to time when I’m feeling kinda down or when I want to feel like I’m...I don’t know…”</p><p>“Home,” Kurosawa said. </p><p>“Yeah,” Adachi nodded. “Now that you’ve said that, it does, it reminds me of home.”</p><p>It was that feeling again of flying and falling. Kurosawa could barely keep himself steady.</p><p>“Can I?” Kurosawa asked, holding his hand out. Adachi closed the manga and handed it to Kurosawa, their fingers lightly brushing and sending an electric shock through his entire body. </p><p>He smoothed out the pages and flipped through, trying to keep everything he was feeling wound tight. He landed on a dog eared page, one that Kurosawa knew well. Also his favorite passage. The one he read over and over again when Yuzuki left. </p><p>It was all more than he could bear. He laid down under the tree next to Adachi, pushing down the impulse to analyze and pull apart these realizations, instead deciding to immerse himself in this perfect moment, until it scattered to the wind.</p>
<hr/><p>“I’m pitching at the next intramural softball match. Would you come watch?” Kurosawa asked as he stole one of Adachi’s fries. </p><p>Adachi made this less than pleased noise and then asked, “When is it?”</p><p>“Tomorrow afternoon. On the south field.” He stole another fry. “C’mon Adachi,” he whined, bumping Adachi’s shoulder with his. “This is my first time pitching in softball. It’s completely different than baseball. Don’t you want to support me?”</p><p>Adachi rolled his eyes. “I’m sure your fanclub will be there.”</p><p>“What fanclub?” Kurosawa asked, leaning down to meet Adachi’s eyes. </p><p>“The whole team, everyone, you have a ton of friends there now,” he said, barely meeting Kurosawa’s gaze. </p><p>“But I want <em>you</em> there. Please,” Kurosawa clasped his hands together, pleading. </p><p>“I’ll try,” Adachi said, pulling his plate of french fries back toward him. He smacked at Kurosawa’s hand when he tried to grab another.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll be happy with <em>try</em>.” He took a bite of his own sandwich and started to clean up his tray. “Ugh, I’ve got to go to these clinical hours. It’s such a struggle.”</p><p>“Isn’t it a bad sign if you intend to be a doctor to hate clinicals?”</p><p>“I don’t think it really matters,” Kurosawa said, organizing his books. </p><p>Adachi finally was really looking at Kurosawa, his face as serious as he has ever seen him. “Why is that exactly?”</p><p>“Because my father wants me to be a doctor, so I’m going to be a doctor.”</p><p>“But what do you want Kurosawa?”</p><p>No one had really ever asked him that. He had always just gone along with his father’s plan to keep peace at home, to keep attention off Yuzuki, to keep his mom happy. But the truth of it was, it wasn’t what he wanted at all.</p><p>Kurosawa stood up, tray in hand and shrugged. “Sometimes you don’t get what you want, no matter how much you want it Adachi.”</p>
<hr/><p>There was no sign of Adachi at warm ups. Kurosawa wasn’t sure if he’d really come. He knew the whole scene made him nervous, but he hoped. He just couldn’t stop himself from hoping.</p><p>The team gathered on their side of the field to discuss positions and rotations. These games were always so much more relaxed than baseball in high school or at Keio. Kurosawa really loved it when he could just play. It was freeing.</p><p>Kurosawa’s team ran out to take their places. He began his warm ups with the catcher. The umpire signaled that they were ready to start. It was instinct, his glancing into the crowd, looking. He hadn’t even realized he was doing it until he saw Adachi’s wave. He smiled from inside out. Adachi smiled back. It was the best game Kurosawa had ever played.</p>
<hr/><p>It was the weekend before finals and the school always had a big two-day arts festival, meant to help all the students recharge and blow off steam before exams. Adachi was rather excited talking about it, mentioning the different art installations he enjoyed in the past and the Saturday night star gazing. It all sounded fun and Kurosawa was happy to tag along to whatever events Adachi was most interested in.</p><p>But when Kurosawa asked Adachi what he wanted to do first at breakfast, Adachi seemed to be barely listening. “Do you want to go see the pinwheels first?” Kurosawa asked. Adachi had seemed especially fond of the annual art installation that covered the entire front lawn with pinwheels of varying sizes and colors.</p><p>“What?” Adachi asked, pushing his food around on his plate.</p><p>“The pinwheels? Do you want to go see them?”</p><p>“Oh yeah, sure.”</p><p>Adachi was equally quiet as they walked around that day. When Kurosawa asked, “Is everything alright?” Adachi just nodded and continued on in the same way.</p><p>By the end of the day, Kurosawa was seriously worried. They had still agreed to meet back on the front lawn for the star gazing event. The school turned off all the lights, even the street lamps, and one of the astronomy students used a mic to narrate what they saw in the night sky. Kurosawa had picked up a blanket from his room and laid it out, hoping Adachi would still show up.</p><p>Adachi plopped himself down next to Kurosawa, quietly picking away at the fuzz on the blanket. The announcer said they were about to start and Adachi laid down without a word. </p><p>Kurosawa joined him, only a few inches of space between them. He could not help watching Adachi’s profile as he looked up at the sky. Kurosawa ached, wanting to reach out, to caress his cheek, to soothe whatever was wrong. To run his finger gently over Adachi’s lips and watch his eyes flutter. </p><p>The low light caught on a wet line on his cheek. “Adachi.” Kurosawa’s chest tightened. “What’s wrong?” He reached out slowly as Adachi turned to look at him. He didn’t say a word, as Kurosawa gently brushed away his tears.</p><p>Adachi’s chest heaved at an expansive intake of breath. “My mom is sick,” he said, looking away and back up at the sky.  </p><p>Kurosawa shifted his eyes up to the sky as well, taking in the vast, shining wonderland above. “What kind of sickness?” He asked so very carefully.</p><p>Adachi made another noise, a muffled cry or a quick gasp. “Cancer. She was diagnosed when I was in high school. I think maybe it’s come back.”</p><p>“You think?”</p><p>“My parents didn’t tell me. My uncle mentioned it when I saw him last night. When I called my parents early this morning they acted like everything was fine.” Adachi wiped his face on his sleeve. “I knew I should never have come here for school. I knew it.”</p><p>“Hey, shhh,” Kurosawa said, reaching his hand across the short distance and clasping Adachi’s hand tight. “Take it one step at a time, okay? You can finish your finals and then go home and find out what is happening.”</p><p>Adachi nodded and wiped his eyes again. His fingers slipping in between Kurosawa’s, holding his hand tightly. They laid that way together for the rest of the evening.</p><p>That night, Kurosawa dreamed of pinwheels turned by mingled breath, the winning run in a baseball game and cherry blossom petals falling, covering Adachi’s smiling face as he laid on the ground.</p>
<hr/><p>The next week, Kurosawa tried to check in with Adachi regularly, but they both had finals and Adachi had arranged to leave earlier than he had anticipated at the urging of his uncle. </p><p>The night before Adachi was leaving, they met on the steps outside of Kurosawa’s dorm. The evening was cool, the breeze flashing goosebumps across Kurosawa’s skin. Adachi sat on the steps, the one street light only illuminating the side of his face closest to Kurosawa. He was so immensely beautiful, it made Kurosawa overflow with a want he could have never imagined before. </p><p>His hand rested next to Adachi’s on the step, itching to cross the minute distance to just feel his skin again, to know he was there, that he was going to be okay. </p><p>Kurosawa wasn’t sure what he was going to do without Adachi. They had been together most days this entire semester. Adachi had become the rhythm by which Kurosawa set his day. His presence set the earth on its rotation, the catalyst for sunrise and sunset. </p><p>Kurosawa’s eyes caught on his soul tie, blaring red and shiny. Adachi’s bare pinky next to his, an acknowledgement that hollowed out his insides. </p><p>Fujisaki said she believed the one universal truth of the soul ties was that you could recognize your soulmate. Kurosawa’s entire being was screaming for Adachi. Kurosawa belonged to him, he knew it in his bones. So how was it that Adachi did not have his own tie? It was impossible that this connection Kurosawa was feeling was with someone else. </p><p>In that moment, Kurosawa couldn’t stand it any longer. He moved in slowly, so close that their lips were only a breath away. Everything he wanted was bursting out from inside of him, it would choke him if he didn’t say something. </p><p>“Adachi,” he whispered. “I-”</p><p>Adachi let out a sigh. “Kurosawa, we can’t.”</p><p>“Why?” He asked, his entire body needing to pull Adachi close and not let him go. </p><p>“You’re meant for someone else.”</p><p>“No,” Kurosawa shook his head. “No, I won’t believe it. It isn’t true.” He took Adachi’s hand in his. “It is all for you. I’m here for you. I know it.”</p><p>“How can it not be true? Look,” he said, holding up his bare pinky. He shifted his eyes down. “You have to let me go.” Adachi’s eyes shone through the dark. “Please,” he said, his voice breaking.</p><p>And it all came crashing down. Kurosawa couldn’t make Adachi feel this way. Couldn’t add to all the pain he was already facing. The agony roiled in his stomach, and up through his chest. He held himself steady and nodded.</p><p>“Okay,” was all he could manage and keep his voice from breaking. They agreed they would talk again when they were both back in Japan. That they could meet in Tokyo. That they could still be friends. But once they left, everything changed.</p>
<hr/><p>No matter what Kurosawa did, he could not fill the empty gaping hole in his chest. First, he tried just talking to Adachi, but the times he answered became less and less frequent and it sounded as though his mother had become ill enough that his father needed Adachi’s help to take care of her. Kurosawa tried to offer help, to offer to listen, to offer anything, but it only seemed to make Adachi withdraw further, until eventually, he did not hear from him again.</p><p>“What’s going on, Yuichi?” Yuzuki asked as she entered his bedroom, softly closing the door. She sat down on Kurosawa’s bed next to him, where he had been spread out for most of his break, reading, listening to music and generally feeling sorry for himself. </p><p>Yuzuki was home because her fiance was going to join their family for dinner. Early last year Yuzuki got her soul tie and started dating her soulmate, a nice shopkeeper from her neighborhood. Kurosawa had yet to meet him, but he sounded like a good match for Yuzuki, quiet and kind. He was so very happy for her.</p><p>“Where is your fiance?” he asked, avoiding the question.</p><p>She rubbed his back a bit. “He’ll be here later. Mom says you have been mostly like this since you got back from the U.S.”</p><p>“Mmm, our mother exaggerates,” he said.</p><p>“So you are all ready to go back to school in a few weeks then?”</p><p>Kurosawa rolled over, covering his face with a groan. “Not you too. I’ll take care of it, I promise.” He put his hand on her arm. “Aneki, tell me about how your string appeared?”</p><p>“Does this have to do with--?”</p><p>“Please,” he asked, finally looking at her.</p><p>“We met at his store. He was very sweet to me. He had a soul tie and said he thought I was his soulmate. I wasn’t sure at first, but he asked me out to eat and we started spending time together. And a few weeks later my tie appeared.” She took Kurosawa’s hand and patted the back of it. “I think our string attached a week or two later. I don’t really know. I just felt like I was falling in love with him and when I looked at him, I just...could feel his love too. God, I sound like a sap. You are making me be sappy, Yuichi!” She gently slapped his hand. </p><p>“Why did your tie appear when it did?” He couldn’t help it. He knew he shouldn’t obsess over it, but he imagined that heartache took away most logical thinking.</p><p>“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess, at first I was kind of scared. It felt like a lot to experience. A lot of pressure. But then as I got to know him, I just saw myself more and more through his eyes. I started to believe I deserved it. Yeah, I think that was what was different.”</p><p>Kurosawa exhaled. He didn’t want to be jealous of Yuzuki, but he was. Jealous that it all became so clear so quickly. Kurosawa’s heart was a muddle mess for far too long.</p><p>“Did you know that Father had a tie once?”</p><p>“No,” Kurosawa said, sitting up. “What?”</p><p>Yuzuki nodded. “Mom mentioned it to me recently. When I told her that Seki had a tie and he thought I was his soulmate, but I didn’t have one.”</p><p>“How is that even possible?” Kurosawa’s whole understanding of his parents’ relationship rearranged itself in his mind.</p><p>“Mom said he just couldn’t accept it. She still loved him and married him, but his tie went away and she said she is happy, but that sometimes, even the matches aren’t meant to be.”</p><p>It was like the dam finally broke, the flood waters running high, all of Kurosawa’s emotions he had been holding tight for months slammed him in the chest. The tears flowed without restraint, his shoulders shaking. Yuzuki pulled him close and held him tight. He pressed his face into Yuzuki’s shoulder, trying to stabilize himself, to turn the universe right. Trying to understand why something he wanted with every part of being would be dangled just out of reach. Where was the meaning in that? Where was the sense?</p><p>Yuzuki said no more. She didn’t try to console him with platitudes or ask him to look on the bright side. She just held him as he cried until he exhausted himself and crawled back under his covers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to yamazaki_zakuro for their inspirational fan art for these final scenes. Zaku, I'm sorry this took me so long to get together. I hope you like it! Their art ended up having major influences on this fic and how it was structured and even some of the thematic events, so this is truly a work inspired by the art in every sense.</p><p>Incidentally, this is where the fic rating goes to explicit. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>8 Years Later</em>
</p><p>“Welcome to Tokoyama,” Chief said, patting Kurosawa on the arm. “Fujisaki gave you the highest recommendation. We are so pleased you could join us.”</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” Kurosawa said with a deep bow. “I really have a passion for this work. I am so excited to be here.”</p><p>“Oh,” Chief said, squeezing Kurosawa’s arm. “I heard you are an exceptional baseball player. Our company team is playing Pentel this weekend. I hope you would consider jumping right in.”</p><p>“It would be my pleasure, sir,” he said, putting on his brightest smile. Playing on the company team would likely be the simplest thing about this new position.</p><p>“Wonderful. If you win, I will be happy to give you a shot at the Sanrio account.” He nudged Kurosawa. “I will leave you in Fujisaki’s capable hands then.” He nodded to them both and made his way to his desk. </p><p>Fujisaki gave him a warm smile. “I missed you. I can’t believe you are going to be here every day.”</p><p>“I know,” he said, looking around the office, taking it all in. “I am really excited to be back in Tokyo.”</p><p>Fujisaki nodded. “Well, let’s introduce you to your new colleagues.”</p><p>Fujisaki stepped out of the way to lead Kurosawa around the office and there, directly in his path was Adachi. By the look on his face, he was just as shocked as Kurosawa, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. It had been many years since Kurosawa had seen his face, but it had not changed much, maybe a few additional lines around his eyes making him look a bit more tired, a bit more worn. But still the most beautiful man he had ever encountered by far.</p><p>It occurred to him he had not been breathing and so he forced his body to comply, taking in a deep breath and putting on his best polished smile. “Hello Adachi,” Kurosawa said with a bow. </p><p>Adachi’s confused look rearranged itself to one of formal acknowledgement, returning Kurosawa’s bow and saying, “Hello Kurosawa.”</p><p>“Oh,” Fujisaki said, clearly immediately aware of the situation. She turned to Kurosawa and asked, “Would you like a minute before your tour?”</p><p>“No, that’s okay. I’d like to meet the staff,” he said, nodding at Adachi as he walked past, forcing himself to stay upright. His entire world lay shattered at his feet and scattered across the office floor.</p>
<hr/><p>“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me he worked here,” Kurosawa said with a grumble as they sat down for lunch. </p><p>Fujisaki, always the thoughtful, clear-minded one said simply, “I didn’t realize he was the same Adachi.”</p><p>Kurosawa tried to relax his jaw, his teeth on edge threatening to give him a headache. “I know, I know. You never met. It’s just weird right? This is weird?”</p><p>“Mmm,” she said, taking a bite of her lunch from her chopsticks. On her pinky, gold glimmered in the light. </p><p>Kurosawa shifted forward to look closer. “Is that your--?”</p><p>“Oh yes, interesting, isn’t it? A few years after I graduated, when I finally decided to go into business law, it just changed. Another ring showed up and it turned gold. Both tied together.”</p><p>Kurosawa frowned. The ring looked familiar, although he swore he had never seen anything like it before. “What does it mean?”</p><p>Fujisaki pressed her thumb under her chin for a moment. “I think it means that I am my own soulmate.”</p><p>“That isn’t actually something that happens, is it?”</p><p>Fujisaki shrugged. “Whether it is something that happens to other people or not, I cannot say, but I am certain it has happened to me.”</p><p>“But why would no one ever explain that if it was possible?”
</p><p>“Because people like to presume they understand everything in the universe when in reality they understand nothing.”</p><p>Kurosawa laughed. Fujisaki was too smart for everyone’s own good.</p><p>She placed her chopsticks down in her bento box. “My father once said that having a soul tie was about finding the greatest love of your life. Why couldn’t that be yourself?” </p><p>Kurosawa considered this. He wondered if that is why everything about his own soul tie was still so unresolved. Had he been wanting something that was not his path?</p><p>“He also said you can’t have a soul tie until you love and accept yourself,” Fujisaki said, as though reading his mind. “You can’t truly give love to anyone else before you give it to yourself. So regardless, it appears the best solution when dealing with a soul tie is to focus on what makes you the happiest.”</p><p>Kurosawa pointed his chopsticks at her. “I’m not sure what to do with such a wise and all knowing Fujisaki,” he said.</p><p>She gave him a satisfied expression. “Well, you best get used to it.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Senior! Senior!” An overly enthusiastic voice called after Kurosawa as he was leaving the office after his first day. Not staring at Adachi all day long took an immense amount of effort and the tension between his eyebrows was intensifying into a full blown headache.</p><p>The young salesman Rokkaku ran up to him and patted him on the back. “Kurosawa-san, please join some of us for drinks to welcome you this evening!”</p><p>“Oh,” Kurosawa smiled. “That is so kind. But I have a prior commitment. Maybe another time?” Rokkaku’s face fell. “Are you sure?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, I think I left some files at my desk,” Kurosawa said pointing to his briefcase as a large group of the staff piled out in the hallway. “But I promise another time.”</p><p>He made his escape back toward the office. If there was a big group going out for drinks, he could not risk getting caught in the current of bodies and having to spend the evening with Adachi. He made his way back to his desk, the office now empty. He sat down and waited a moment until the coast was clear, organizing his files for the next day as he got up to speed on the various accounts.</p><p>“Kurosawa?” The smooth, sweet voice wrapped itself around him. Adachi stood next to his desk, his arms hanging loose, his expression pained.</p><p>“Hi, Adachi,” he said. Putting this off was simply being childish. They were going to work together. He wasn’t going to quit just because his first love who had unequivocally rejected him was going to be there every single day. He was no longer a young man, desperate and lost, allowing the actions of others to push or pull him in directions he otherwise did not want to go. </p><p>“I...how are you here?”</p><p>“I know, it’s strange,” Kurosawa said.</p><p>“No,” Adachi shook his head. “That isn’t what I meant. Weren’t you going to be a doctor? How are you now a salesman?”</p><p>“Ah.” Kurosawa nodded. “Yes, I suppose that would seem strange since it has been so long since we’ve seen one another.” Kurosawa leaned back in his chair, wanting to give off the absolute aura of cool and collected. “I transferred when I got back to Keio and joined the business school instead.”</p><p>“Your father let you do that?”</p><p>“Someone once asked me to consider what I wanted. So I decided that if I truly wanted something, it was worth fighting for it.” There was an edge in his voice, giving away more than he had intended.</p><p>“Oh,” Adachi said, looking down, tugging at his coat sleeves that were covering his hands. He looked smaller, hunched over more, as if he wanted to disappear.</p><p>“How’s your Mom?” Kurosawa said, softening.</p><p>“Oh, right, good, actually. We’re all relieved.”</p><p>“That’s good,” he said, standing. Kurosawa looked at his watch. “I’m sorry, I have to go.” </p><p>“It is good to see you, Kurosawa,” Adachi blurted out. </p><p>Kurosawa nodded and made his way out of the building as fast as he possibly could.</p><p>Only once he was outside did he allow himself to whisper, “I missed you, Adachi,” as he composed himself and flagged a taxi home.</p>
<hr/><p>The rest of the week was difficult, if not impossible. The office was smaller than he had thought. Adachi was everywhere. Kurosawa somehow ended up sitting next to him in a staff meeting. And he somehow smelled the same, that floral scent that now called to mind cherry blossoms in the spring. </p><p>It was interesting to see him in a place where he was clearly comfortable. His colleagues sought his opinion and to no surprise, he was always kind and helpful. His smile still brightened any room. His laugh made Kurosawa light and buoyant.</p><p>All those years without Adachi were grayscale. He had wondered how he would get through the anguish and then he did, throwing himself into changing programs at school and a new career he enjoyed. He reminded himself of this, that he once thought he wasn’t strong enough to survive, but he had. He would.</p><p>Kurosawa left the office to take a walk to clear his head. It was one plan of action that had allowed him to keep a handle on himself. He walked over the bridge and made his way to a small, quiet, less populated walking path.</p><p>He turned over in his mind all the times he simply missed Adachi. All the times he considered trying to reach out. Trying to find him. Adachi had already told Kurosawa what he had wanted loud and clear. His absence was blaring. So why did he still wonder...</p><p>It had been so long. It should no longer feel so fresh. He should have let go of his tie long ago. And yet, it still shone bright on his finger. Kurosawa still dreamed about Adachi. Kurosawa’s heart still belonged to him.</p><p>“Kurosawa,” Adachi called. His name on Adachi’s lips filled him with the weight of the lost years between them. </p><p>Kurosawa bowed. “Adachi,” he said. It hurt to act so formally, but he did not know what else to do. </p><p>“Please, can I speak with you?”</p><p>Kurosawa nodded, his arms stiff at his side, eyes averted toward the ground. He just couldn’t bring himself to look at him. If he did, he might find himself begging Adachi to reconsider. Pleading that he would be happy with anything. Just being close to him. Just in his presence. But after a week of this he knew that was likely not true.</p><p>“I--” Adachi started and then silence enveloped them, suffocating them. Adachi breathed deeply and took a step forward. “I’m glad you’re here,” he declared.</p><p>Kurosawa couldn’t help himself. He looked up to meet Adachi’s eyes. “Are you?” His voice trembled. </p><p>“I’m sorry. I’ve missed you so much. I just--”</p><p>“Then why didn’t you ever call? Or send me a message? Anything?”</p><p>“My mom was so sick. And I didn’t know how to do anything but help take care of her. And I saw how my father’s heart was breaking, how much it could hurt when you loved someone...” Adachi’s eyes were shining. “I wanted to. I thought of you every day. I just couldn’t.”</p><p>“I would have understood. I would have given you all the space you needed,” Kurosawa said quietly. </p><p>“I know,” Adachi said. “I know you would have done whatever I asked whether it made you miserable or not. Whether I deserved it or not. Whether your soulmate was someone else.”</p><p>That last statement was like a stab through the heart. “It should have been my choice,” Kurosawa said. “You didn’t let me choose, Adachi.” He turned. “I need to go back to the office.”</p><p>“Just wait, please,” Adachi said, grabbing his wrist. Kurosawa froze. “My mom has been in remission again for about two years. On her one year anniversary, she asked me to start moving forward with my life again. She wanted me to think about what I wanted most and to finally allow myself to have it. Kurosawa, all I could think of was you. Any fight I had trying to not burden you, any feelings of not deserving you, they couldn’t hide it. It was my honest truth. And that is when this appeared.”</p><p>Adachi held up his hand, the red shiny tie glistening in the light. Kurosawa stopped breathing. All he could hear was his heart beating so rapidly he thought it might explode. It was too much. He couldn’t take it all in. He stood there staring, wondering if it was a trick of his eyes, a delusion based on all he had wanted for so long.</p><p>Kurosawa had been having dreams again over the last year. Beautiful smiles, warm embraces, bright laughs, soft touches. Cherry blossoms. He thought he was losing his mind. </p><p>He took a step back, connecting the dots of what Adachi had said. “If that was a year ago, why didn’t you tell me before now?”</p><p>Adachi hung his head. “I thought you hated me. I thought it might be too late. I just kept asking the universe if it was meant to be that we be given another chance.” He took in a staggered breath. “And here it is. Right now, Kurosawa. I know it isn’t fair. I know it’s all my fault.”</p><p>Adachi stepped forward again, closing the remaining distance between them. He wrapped his arms around Kurosawa’s shoulders and brushed his lips gently against Kurosawa’s. </p><p>Kurosawa melted into Adachi, his body responding before he could even consider. Their lips slotted together perfectly as if it was their natural state to be moving together, to be caressing one another. The elation filled him up and spilled over, his head dizzy with want, with need, with love.  </p><p>But it wasn’t right. Kurosawa pulled back, wiping a tear from Adachi’s face, just as he did all those years ago. “We can’t, Adachi.” He squeezed his shoulder. “If it was right then, you would have known.”</p><p>He thought of what Fujisaki said. About how maybe you have to love yourself first for the world to right itself. The best way Kurosawa thought he could do that was to take a breath. </p><p>“I need some air,” he said, his voice shaky.</p><p>“We’re already outside.” Adachi barely broke a soft, gentle smile.</p><p>“I need some...more air.” Kurosawa’s voice had a hint of exasperation, and fondness, if he was being honest. “I’ll see you back in the office.”</p><p>“Okay,” Adachi nodded and watched him as he walked away.</p>
<hr/><p>The office was abuzz about the corporate baseball game on Saturday. It had gotten around that Kurosawa played, and that he had good stats as a pitcher, so people were excited about the potential for success against Pentel. From what Kurosawa could gather, they had beat Tokoyama five times in the last two years. Tokoyama could barely field a team and had to forfeit at least one for lack of players. Chief seemed to care a lot about these matches, having some sort of relationship with the manager of Pentel’s team. It was all anyone talked about the last few days.</p><p>On early Saturday morning, their team gathered to practice before the match. They all even had uniforms, the company name printed on some long sleeved t-shirts and the appropriate pants. When they got to the field, Adachi was there in his. </p><p>Kurosawa wasn’t sure if he might die of shock or the fire that lit up inside of him seeing Adachi dressed that way. The pants were revealing in a way that was so very distracting. Kurosawa thanked the universe for never presenting this as a scenario he had ever considered before because now that he had, he was not sure how he would ever think of anything else ever again.</p><p>Kurosawa could not help himself. He walked up to Adachi. “You don’t play, do you?”</p><p>Adachi laughed. “No, but sometimes if we’re down people, Chief asks me to stand on the field.” Adachi smiled, his unwieldy hair curling up from under his baseball cap, which framed his beautiful eyes.</p><p>Thankfully at that moment, Chief called Kurosawa over to look at the roster, because otherwise he feared he would lose all sense of rationality. The list was short. Indeed they only had enough players to field the team, save one alternate, Adachi. </p><p>Kurosawa surveyed the field. It was a somewhat cloudy day, but the sunlight peeked through, scattering across the field, catching on the glistening blades of grass. The field looked to be well groomed on most days, but it had rained excessively the night before and there were some puddles in various spots and patches of mud. It could make the game somewhat precarious.</p><p>“Should we be concerned about the state of the field?” He asked the Chief. </p><p>“We aren’t going to miss our first chance to beat Pentel because of a little water,” Chief said gruffly and stalked off.</p><p>Their team was considered the visitors so they were first to bat. Kurosawa easily hit a grounder, allowing him to make it to second base, but there were patches of grass and dirt he had to avoid, confirming Kurosawa’s assessment. </p><p>When the home team was up to bat, Kurosawa took his place at the pitcher’s mound. There was a small group of spectators chattering on the side lines, an air of excitement and anticipation floating through the air, and the smell of fresh cut grass. Kurosawa inhaled it all. How he loved the feeling of all that was possible in that one moment before his first pitch. </p><p>Before he knew it, he was looking over at the baseline. There stood Adachi, having left the dugout to put himself front and center, his hand over the brim of his cap blocking out the sun, his smile wide, an enthusiastic wave. A smile overtook his own lips. He exhaled and let go. </p><p>Kurosawa did not allow himself to consider what shifted as the game continued on. He had to focus. It had become clear their winning this game would set the trajectory of his career at Tokoyama. Understanding his relationship with Adachi had waited for years, it would have to wait a bit more.</p><p>At the bottom of the ninth inning, Tokoyama was in the lead 5 runs to Pentel’s 3. Kurosawa had struck one player out and another had been tagged out at first. Only one more and they will have succeeded. </p><p>The next batter, a thin woman with an elegant swing and a determined look, stepped up and hit a pop fly. Rokkaku took off on a run to the center field and skidded, missing the ball and landing as a lump on the ground. The right fielder ran and was able to stop the runner on second, but a timeout was called to assess Rokkaku’s condition. </p><p>“I’m fine, we are almost done!” He said, as Urabe and Watanabe walked him off the field. It was clear the wetness was a hazard and he silently kicked himself for not making more of a fuss. But the other team would not let them call the game now, not with their team ahead so close to the finish. </p><p>Kurosawa inspected his ankle. “Can you stand on it?”</p><p>
Rokkaku tried to put his foot down and winced. </p><p>“Sit,” Kurosawa said. “Put some ice on it.” He scanned the bench. “Adachi,” he called, waving him over. “Can you fill in? We’ll move some people around.”</p><p>“Of course,” he said, jumping up and giving a quick bow. Kurosawa paused, a bit startled by Adachi’s eagerness in the situation. He imagined this happening in college and him cowering in the corner. “Are you sure?”</p><p>Adachi nodded. “You need to win this game to get the Sanrio account,” he said with a smile and walked out to the spot in left field where Kurosawa had placed him. The next few players in the batting order tended to be pulling to the right so he hoped that would keep Adachi out of harm’s way. </p><p>The next batter got a ground ball to first, but Watanabe was able to hold the runner at second. Kurosawa’s nerves about the game had skyrocketed with Adachi on the field. He just wanted to finish this.  </p><p>The next batter was a young man with a wide stance and powerful arms. Kurosawa had observed that he could really put some speed on the ball, even to the outfield. Kurosawa glanced back at Adachi, who waved at him again. Kurosawa turned on the batter, determined to strike this guy out and get this over with.</p><p>But as much as Kurosawa wanted to always control all scenarios, he could not here. The batter got good leverage on his second pitch and sent it hurtling into left field. Kurosawa spun, his heart in his throat as he watched it speeding toward Adachi. Adachi looked white as a ghost as he realized the ball was coming toward him, but he moved quickly, skittering and flailing, but still somehow solidly planting himself under the ball’s trajectory.</p><p>He held his glove out in front of his face and closed his eyes. The ball smacked into his mitt with full force and sent him tumbling back on to the ground. Kurosawa took off on a run, barely able to process the cheering around him. Adachi was still on the ground, ball in glove. The final out and the game was over. </p><p>But Kurosawa could not care about that, Adachi was still splayed out on the ground, while some others were standing over him. “Adachi!” he called, sliding down beside him on the ground. He was still holding the mitt, the ball firmly in place. His face was flushed and there was a small mark on his cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Did you get hit?”</p><p>Adachi’s eyes were still closed. He groaned a bit and said, “Yeah, I think the ball hit my cheek as I caught it.”</p><p>Kurosawa leaned in to inspect it better, Adachi was wide eyed and looking up at him. “I’m...I’m okay,” he finally said, his hand had grasped onto Kurosawa’s arm, the two embracing one another, faces inches from one another. Adachi blinked up at him, still looking shocked, but biting his lip, appearing to wait for Kurosawa to say or do something. </p><p>Kurosawa cleared his throat, now aware of all the bystanders observing them. He took Adachi’s arm and pulled him to standing. “Are you steady enough to walk?” he asked.</p><p>Adachi nodded, but Kurosawa did not let go of him, leading him over to the dugout. The Tokoyama team was chattering congratulations to Kurosawa and Adachi while others were celebrating at the dugout. </p><p>“Nice work!” Chief bellowed to the both of them. “Drinks are on me!”</p><p>The group erupted again. Even Rokkaku, seemingly recovered, was jumping up and down. </p><p>“You go ahead,” Kurosawa said to the Chief. “I want to make sure Adachi gets some ice on this.”</p><p>Kurosawa carefully led him to sit down on the bench, the crowd was too wrapped up in celebrating and the anticipation of free drinks to notice their absence. </p><p>“How does it feel?” Kurosawa asked, pressing gently below the mark with one of his fingers, trying to get a sense of the size of the injury. </p><p>Adachi hissed at the touch but said, “It’s fine, really, Kurosawa. You should enjoy your celebration.”</p><p>Kurosawa looked at him head on. “It’s your celebration too,” he said. “I had no idea you had that in you.”</p><p>“Neither did I,” Adachi said with a laugh.</p><p>Rokkaku poked his head into the otherwise empty dugout. “Are you seniors coming! We must celebrate!”</p><p>Urabe joined him, “Come on, Adachi! This is your moment!”</p><p>“Uh,” Adachi said, looking down at his pants that were covered in mud. </p><p>Fujisaki stopped at the entrance. After taking a look at the both of them, she grabbed both Urabe and Rokkaku’s arms and said, “They will join us later.”</p><p>“Yes, thank you,” Kurosawa said. “Please have fun for us.”</p><p>“But--” Rokkaku began to protest until Fujisaki hauled him by the arm out of the dugout.</p><p>Kurosawa rifled around looking for the ice cooler. When he located it, he was discouraged to find only loose ice left. It would make it difficult to keep it in place on Adachi’s injury. He grabbed his bag and shuffled through it, trying to find something to create a makeshift ice pack. Nothing seemed workable. </p><p>Without another thought, he peeled off his t-shirt and wrapped some ice in the material, twisting the bulb of ice closed and then pressing it on Adachi’s cheek. </p><p>Adachi’s mouth dropped as Kurosawa crouched close. “Is this better?” He asked.</p><p>Adachi made an incoherent noise and then slowly nodded yes. His eyes dropped and Kurosawa followed them, suddenly aware that he was bare chested. “Oh, sorry,” he said, taking Adachi’s hand and placing it on the makeshift ice pack and grabbing his dress shirt from his bag. </p><p>“You…” Adachi trailed off, still watching him. “You gave me the shirt off your back.”</p><p>Kurosawa laughed. “I suppose I did.” He swung his dress shirt on, letting it hang loose. </p><p>He crouched in front of Adachi again, brushing the dirt out of his hair and wiping the mud off his face. “You’re a disaster.” </p><p>“Yes, I have often thought that.” He smiled, looking up at Kurosawa through his long lashes. Even in this state, he was so absolutely gorgeous it made Kurosawa die a bit inside. </p><p>He loved him so very much. He had been faced with that fact every day for the last eight years. But being with Adachi, especially in this moment, the feeling was so immense he was overtaken by it. He was not sure he still had the ability to speak. Love was washing over him like a wave and all he could do was let it take him away.</p><p>“Kurosawa?” Adachi’s voice broke in. He held up his finger and a very light line glimmered from his pinky tie. Kurosawa trailed every centimeter of it, dropping his gaze to his own hand, where it was connected to his. </p><p>He met Adachi’s eyes, wet and shining. What he had been feeling was not only his love for Adachi but Adachi’s love for him: perfect, complete and all encompassing. </p><p>He practically launched himself forward, their lips meeting with such intensity, the force of their feelings and their desire - desire Kurosawa could now <em>feel </em> from Adachi, making it impossible to be physically separate. Adachi’s response was desperate and needy, pulling at Kurosawa’s shirt, his arms, pulling Kurosawa so he was sitting next to him on the bench, practically in one another’s laps. </p><p>The shift in position was uncoordinated, bumping their faces together a bit. Adachi winced, having dropped the substitute ice pack on the bench beside him.</p><p>Kurosawa did not want to stop touching Adachi, now or ever. But this was not the place for this. They needed to...god, he could not think. They needed to go. </p><p>“Come to my place,” he whispered, his forehead still pressed against Adachi’s. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”</p><p>“Okay,” Adachi said breathlessly.</p><p>The taxi ride to Kurosawa’s apartment felt like an eternity. He knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. It was finally allowed. He could take in Adachi all he wanted and no longer feel strange about it. Adachi still seemed a bit shy, glancing over and then looking out the window smiling, but he slid his hand over and rested it on Kurosawa’s, the string between them bright and red in that moment. </p><p>“I can’t believe you did that,” Kurosawa said, still marveling. “You’re freaked out by crowds.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“And you hate sports.”</p><p>“I know,” Adachi said, looking back at him. “But I love you.” Kurosawa knew this. He could feel it. But it was the casual way Adachi said it, like it was just a fact that could be stated out loud without any need to hide, without any need to protect it, that made it difficult for him to keep his bearings. </p><p>The time it took to make their way through Kurosawa’s building from the street felt like endless agony. They had not let go of their hands, fingers slotted together. Kurosawa would never let go again. But he burned inside to be close. To touch Adachi. To tell him everything he was feeling. The waiting was torture. </p><p>When they walked inside the hallway of his apartment, he inhaled deeply. His desire was palpable. He wanted to act. He wanted to press Adachi up against the wall and let his hands roam wherever they pleased. He considered that he could possibly be drunk. All the feelings enveloping him were taking over. Rational thinking was utterly gone.</p><p>Adachi looked at him, eyes wide and open, his breathing deep and labored. “Kurosawa, is this...is this the tie? I can’t even think straight.”</p><p>Right. The tie allowed for a time period where you could actually feel each other’s emotions. That had to be what this was. Not that he wasn’t completely filled up and overwhelmed by his feelings for Adachi, but this was clearly something more. </p><p>Adachi grabbed his collar and pulled Kurosawa into him as they both fell against the wall. He tasted sweet and warm. Their bodies fully pressed together allowed Kurosawa to take in all of Adachi, his lean arm muscles, his sleek chest, the line of his hip bone, the intensity of his desire. They kissed like that for so long, pressing against one another, their want building as they thrust together. </p><p>Kurosawa was going to come right there if they did not stop.</p><p>“Adachi,” he said, pulling away, stabilizing himself with one arm against the wall. They breathed one another’s air until Kurosawa could speak again. “Do we...do you need to talk?”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk anymore. I just want to be close to you. I need you to touch me. Please don’t stop.”</p><p>Kurosawa licked Adachi’s lips and pressed his tongue into his mouth. They kissed again like this until Kurosawa lost the strength in his legs and staggered, catching himself again.</p><p>Adachi laughed, looking up at him, brushing his hands through Kurosawa’s hair. “You’ve got mud all over you now.”</p><p>The both were filthy, having rubbed the mud and dirt that had previously been on Adachi all over the both of them. Kurosawa made an executive decision and took Adachi by the hand, leading him into the bathroom. </p><p>Adachi watched him as he turned on the shower, the steam rising through the room. The air became hot and heavy as Kurosawa slid his fingers under the seam of Adachi’s baseball shirt and peeled it off him, making sure to be very careful to not to pull the shirt against the slight bruise that was forming on his cheek. </p><p>Kurosawa hungrily took him all in, his beautiful chest, the material of his pants straining against what Kurosawa could feel as they had pressed against one another. Adachi wanted Kurosawa as much as Kurosawa wanted him. And he could die happy from simply knowing that.</p><p>He could no longer restrain what he wanted. He pressed the heel of his palm against Adachi’s hardness and Adachi let out a sound that Kurosawa had never heard him make before, untethered and forceful. Adachi pressed his own hand against Kurosawa’s, increasing the friction. God, fuck, it was so amazingly hot. </p><p>They kissed again as Adachi peeled Kurosawa’s shirt off, their skin finally freed to fully take in the sensations of each other’s bodies. Kurosawa dropped his hands to the button on Adachi’s pants, a question. Adachi nodded and Kurosawa slowly kissed down Adachi’s body as he worked his pants past his hips and down to the ground. </p><p>Kurosawa wanted to just continue worshiping Adachi’s body, but the dried mud was coarse under his fingers and he imagined it might not feel good pressed against Adachi’s skin. He shifted to take off his own pants, allowing Adachi to remove his underwear and step into the shower.  </p><p>Kurosawa knew he shouldn’t gawk. First, it was impolite. And second, it was likely to make Adachi uncomfortable. Except, Adachi just looked back at him and said, “Come here.”</p><p>Adachi ran his hands through his hair, the water soaking the strands and gathering in little droplets on various spots, the ends of his hair, his eye lashes. He was stunning and vulnerable. And his.</p><p>The water sloshed in tiny streams down Adachi’s body, trailing the lines of his form and cascading off. Kurosawa idly pressed his thumb at different points, redirecting the water, taking in the visual that under any circumstance would have sent him reeling. Adachi wet, lips red from friction, eyes wide looking up at him, waiting for him.</p><p>Kurosawa trailed the backs of his fingers over Adachi’s body, a noise of assent escaping Adachi’s lips before he pressed them against Kurosawa’s shoulder, placing a line of soft kisses along his collar bone. Kurosawa shivered, his skin alive with the chill of the air outside the water and Adachi’s gentle touch.</p><p>The movement of Adachi’s lips on Kurosawa’s skin was the greatest feeling he had ever experienced. The slow lap of his tongue on his neck transformed into soft sucking and the briefest of kisses. Adachi was treating him as though he was delicate. Something valuable that needed the utmost care. It overwhelmed Kurosawa. All he could do was swallow and take it in. Every movement, every caress, every touch.</p><p>Adachi pressed in close, their hardness sliding together. Adachi let out a soft noise of pleasure as Kurosawa pushed him up against the wall, their hips grinding together. Kurosawa leaned down, tonguing the spot on Adachi’s clavicle where water was trailing before running off his body and onto the floor. </p><p>“I want to touch you,” Kurosawa said. “Can I?”</p><p>“Please,” Adachi said, his voice a bit rough.</p><p>He let his fingertips drop down the lines of Adachi’s chest, shiny and slick, until they met the soft tuft of hair below his belly button. Kurosawa delighted in the knowledge that this patch existed as he allowed himself to move down lower, until finally he met the softest, smoothest skin. Adachi immediately groaned, sending a jolt of excitement through Kurosawa and straight to his cock, pulsing against Adachi’s leg. </p><p>Kurosawa stroked Adachi slowly, enjoying watching every movement he made: Adachi closing his eyes at Kurosawa’s touch, Adachi licking his lips as Kurosawa tightened his fist, Adachi pressing his hands against the walls to hold himself steady as Kurosawa sped up his movements. </p><p>“Mmmm, this is fucking unbelieveable,” Adachi slowly got out in between pants and moans. Adachi opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Kurosawa with such intensity he thought he might collapse under the weight of it. He appeared to be assessing something, scanning his eyes over Kurosawa as he thrust into Kurosawa’s hand. Adachi was possibly stronger now than when they were younger or maybe he had no need to demonstrate this particular set of skills in the past, but he darted his arm around Kurosawa’s shoulder and firmly pulled him in close, pressing his thigh onto Kurosawa’s straining erection. </p><p>Kurosawa let out an involuntary sound, overwhelmed by the intense wave of pleasure that shot through him. The warm water trailed between their bodies as Kurosawa stroked Adachi faster and faster, adjusting his grip at changes in Adachi’s facial expressions, at the tensing of his body. Adachi’s leg continued to press against him, flaming the fire deep in Kurosawa’s belly, his legs shaking with the intensity of all he was feeling.</p><p>Adachi let out a short, punched out sound, his face going slack as hot liquid pulsed on Kurosawa’s hand. His eyes, soft, deep pools meet Kurosawa’s as he reached for the back of Kurosawa’s neck, pulling him into an intense kiss. Kurosawa’s orgasm slammed through him as their lips touched, a groan escaping into Adachi’s mouth as he melted into the warmth of his afterglow, their bodies merging into one another. They stabilized each other as they caught their breaths, the warm water washing away the natural result of what they had just done to one another. </p><p>After a few minutes, Kurosawa was getting a bit concerned that he wouldn't continue to have the strength to hold them upright. He turned the water off and reached out of the stall, taking his fluffiest towel and wrapping it around Adachi’s shoulders. He grabbed himself one, tightening it around his waist. </p><p>Kurosawa reached out and brought Adachi’s hand to his mouth, kissing it gently before he led him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. </p><p>Kurosawa had no idea what should happen next. He held his hand up to the light and the very light string shone again. He wondered under what circumstances the string appeared. Was it like a flick of the light, that a person only saw it if they glanced at it head on, or perhaps it showed itself when someone needed it most. Really, it did not matter. Only its existence was important.</p><p>What was certain was the intense, overwhelming feelings still radiating off the bond, still flowing through him. Adachi had stopped at the entrance of the bedroom, towel still wrapped around his body, his hair damp and clinging to his face. </p><p>“I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough then.” Kurosawa stepped forward, his instinct to console Adachi, to care for him. “But I am now,” he said, his voice unmoving. “I hope you can forgive me.”</p><p>Kurosawa closed the distance, scooping Adachi up in his arms and pulling him close. “I understand. I love you. I don’t care anymore.”</p><p>“Just because I didn’t mean to hurt you Yuichi, doesn’t mean that it didn’t.” Adachi brushed the back of his hand over Kurosawa’s cheek. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”</p><p>They kissed again. Their hands were too preoccupied by accessible patches of skin to continue holding their towels, now discarded on the floor. Adachi shivered. Kurosawa pulled back. “Are you cold? Do you want something to wear?”</p><p>Adachi shook his head and pressed his hands against Kurosawa’s chest, pushing Kurosawa backward until he toppled over onto the bed. Adachi knelt down between his legs and looked up at him. Again with those lashes. Droplets of water still glistening on his skin. </p><p>“Kiyoshi,” Kurosawa stammered, blushing. “We just--”</p><p>Adachi grasped at Kurosawa’s thighs, spreading them open to make room for himself. He rubbed the soft skin between his legs. Kurosawa’s eyes rolled to the back of his head. Based on how turned on he was, he was surprised he wasn’t hard yet, but he had come not minutes before. “Adachi, I don’t know if I can…”</p><p>“Doesn’t matter,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on Kurosawa’s hip bone. “I just want to make you feel good,” he said, placing another on his other hip. “I’m happy to take my time.” He kissed Kurosawa’s pelvis. “I want you to know I’m not going anywhere.” He pressed his lips lower. “Ever.” </p><p>Before Kurosawa could respond, Adachi fingered Kurosawa cock, and slid it in his mouth. Kurosawa felt the change instantly, half hard in response to Adachi’s soft sucking motion. </p><p>Holy fuck. Kurosawa must be dreaming. This cannot be real. This cannot really be happening. </p><p>Adachi pulled off with a soft slurp. “Is this, is this okay?”</p><p>Kurosawa had no words for what this was. “Okay is a severe understatement,” he answered once he was able to speak again.</p><p>Adachi smiled and continued back at his work. He slid his hands under Kurosawa’s thighs and pulled him in closer, moving them up to massage Kurosawa’s ass. His cock pulsed at the increased stimulation. Adachi made a cut off noise and pulled off again. “Are you alright?” Kurosawa asked, reaching to touch him. </p><p>Adachi nodded while stroking him, his cock fully flushed and erect. “Just surprised me a bit.”</p><p>Kurosawa covered his face. “I’m sorry,” he said, his face hot.</p><p>“Don’t be,” Adachi said. “I love how much you want this.”</p><p>He held Kurosawa at the head and placed the tip of his tongue at the base of his shaft, then slowly trailed his tongue up. “This time <em>I</em> want to watch,” he said. “I want you to come for me, Yuichi.” Another lap of Adachi’s tongue sent a shock through his body. His hand fisted in the sheets to keep steady. He was not sure he could survive Adachi’s tongue.</p><p>He trembled as Adachi continued moving his tongue all along Kurosawa’s shaft, saliva pooling, hastening the rapid assault of sensation that Kurosawa could not long withstand. He slid his mouth down fully over him, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking harder and harder. </p><p>Adachi’s hand was between Kurosawa's legs, touching his balls, the adjacent patch of soft skin, the warm patch behind. He desperately grasped at Adachi. It was more than Kurosawa could withstand. He let go as his orgasm shattered through his body, his hands buried in his Adachi’s hair as he swallowed him down.</p><p>Adachi pulled off, looking up at him. Kurosawa’s chest was heaving, his body completely boneless, barely able to keep sitting up straight. Adachi smiled as he pulled himself up off the floor and climbed on top of Kurosawa, straddling his lap.</p><p> “I-” Kurosawa started, taking in another gulp of air, “Had no idea you knew how to do that.” </p><p>Adachi was playing with Kurosawa’s hair, tucking it behind his ear. “Eight years is a long time to imagine something. You get ideas.”</p><p>“Yes,” Kurosawa said, finally regaining enough muscle strength to wrap his arms around Adachi’s waist. “I have a few of my own.”</p><p>“Good,” Adachi said, sucking Kurosawa’s bottom lip into his mouth and chewing on it a bit. “Lay down with me?” he asked. </p><p>Kurosawa could only nod. He stabilized his grip on Adachi and pulled them both back on the bed, now repositioned against the headboard. </p><p>“Shit, Yuichi,” Adachi said. “You’re strong.” He slid off Kurosawa’s body, settling himself so that he was resting his head on Kurosawa’s chest. “You could have just carried me off that field.”</p><p>Kurosawa laughed. “Was my Kiyoshi so injured he needed to be carried?”</p><p>“Well, you could have offered at least,” Adachi said, a fake pout on his face. </p><p>Kurosawa flipped himself, pressing his body down on Adachi’s. “I have some ideas on how we might take advantage of my strength in the future,” he whispered.</p><p>“Good,” Adachi said. “Now that I am a baseball star, I have very high expectations.”</p><p>Kurosawa smiled, pressing rapid, light kisses all along Adachi’s face, his neck, his chest. He was so very happy, so very exhausted, so very satisfied. </p><p>He shifted off Adachi and pulled him close. “I hope you are comfortable. I don’t expect you will be going anywhere for awhile.”</p><p>“I told you, Yuichi,” he said, his eyes shining, “I’m not going anywhere, ever.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I had many ideas about the soul tie mythology. All the details didn't really fit into the story, but I saw Adachi's parents, Kurosawa's parents, Fujisaki and Adachi and Kurosawa all finding their ways to having different types of relationships with various levels of individual, romantic and platonic needs. I hope this all came together and that message was clear. We all find our own ways to happiness and I wanted to affirm that and celebrate it here.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm over on Tumblr @ <a href="https://incandescentflower.tumblr.com/">Incandescentflower</a> or Twitter @ <a href="https://twitter.com/flower_incandes">IncandescentFlower</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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